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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27103414">let the mercury run</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrphanText/pseuds/OrphanText'>OrphanText</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sky: Children of the Light (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Claiming Bites, Developing Relationship, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Sexual Tension</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-09 04:48:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,390</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27103414</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrphanText/pseuds/OrphanText</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Delegate Ash.” The smile Fenning directs at him is razor-sharp, his tone deceptively casual. He takes a deliberate step towards Ash, then another, closing the distance between them and forcing him further back away from the exit. “You should have told me you were dropping by. It reflects poorly on our hospitality that we didn’t send a representative to meet you on arrival.”</p><p>OC pairing: Ash/Fenning</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>67</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>let the mercury run</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I've taken a fair amount of liberties with this (as you do), including but not limited to the setting of Sky itself. In general, every realm is governed by an Elder, and Star Children gain status via ascension. Ash works under the Isle Elder, whereas Fenning works beneath the Wasteland Elder. </p><p>Again, a great many thanks to Ri (@catallarii) for indulging me in my undying thirst for these two. Please kindly check out her twitter to see how wonderfully she has drawn them both. This fic got way out of hand—it's 900 words longer than originally intended.</p><p>OC characters belong to me, appearances based off of sky kids. </p><p>Un-betaed.</p><p>Hope to see you in SKY!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>He’s ten paces away from the exit when someone steps before him, effectively cutting off the only route of escape he has from this thrice-cursed place. Ash doesn’t have to look to know who it is, stepping back warily even as he tugs on his scarf so that it comes up to just beneath his chin. “Fenning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Delegate Ash.” The smile Fenning directs at him is razor-sharp, his tone deceptively casual. He takes a deliberate step towards Ash, then another, closing the distance between them and forcing him further back away from the exit. “You should have told me you were dropping by. It reflects poorly on our hospitality that we didn’t send a representative to meet you on arrival.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No need for formalities. It’s not an official visit, and I was just… leaving, as you can see.” Ash swallows hard, his heart sinking when Fenning’s smile widens. If Fenning wants to play it difficult, then there is no possible outcome that Ash can foresee where he gets out of it unscathed. Cursing himself for not leaving the moment he saw Fenning while he was still busy, he approximates a smile, hoping that none of his panic is showing through. “If you don’t mind, Fenning, please get out of my way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now, you always have such a way with your words that it’s almost charming. I know that the Isle doesn’t get much traffic compared to the other territories, but really, is there a need for such animosity? Regardless, I am glad to see that you are well,” Fenning says, as if he had never heard him speak at all. His gaze drops lower, then, Ash fighting down the sense of apprehension rising within his chest. “It’s such lovely weather today. Hardly cold enough yet to warrant a scarf, I believe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He is, Ash knows, absolutely doing this simply to rile him up. But knowing is one thing, and understanding another. As tempting as it is to punch him in the face—not that Ash is one partially inclined towards violence when there are other simpler methods of solving problems, although most of it goes out through the window whenever Fenning is involved in any capacity—the momentary satisfaction that it will bring him is not worth the consequences of playing directly into Fenning’s hands. Instead, he raises his head defiantly, forcing himself to unclench his hands from the fists they had curled into. “It’s none of your business.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” Fenning says, surprisingly agreeable. Ash finds himself on edge immediately, not trusting him in the slightest bit. “You’ve put it into such a dreadful knot, however—here, let me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Absolutely not, you will keep your hands to yourself—</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fenning!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?” Paying no heed to his anger, Fenning chuckles even as he draws him close by the ends of his scarf until there’s barely a scant inch between them, deft hands tugging on the clumsy knot that Ash had tied into it this morning until it slips free. “There’s no need to look at me like that. It won’t take very long, I promise. Now. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hold still</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a whisper of Command beneath his words, a hint of the specialised Craft taught only to Wasteland guides for use in the control and the monitoring of krills, a vicious type of dark creature rife within their territories. The skill, when applied to constellations of higher stature, is nothing more than a mere suggestion, easily brushed away if so they wanted. As it is, the compulsion dissipates before it could ensnare Ash, drawing him in under Fenning’s control. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A petty reason,” Ash murmurs, affecting a nonchalance he does not feel even as he forces himself to remain still, fearful that any further action on his part would be taken as an admission of defeat by Fenning. “For breaching the Agreement, don’t you think?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Each to their own.” Fenning says, entirely unconcerned as he makes a show out of glancing towards the edge of the clearing where the Elders have gathered for a discussion, oblivious to their quarrel. “But surely, if you disapprove of me as much as you say you do, there is nothing here to stop you from reporting me right here and now if you wanted to, is there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His smile only grows wider in Ash’s answering silence, patting him on the cheek in a manner Ash takes to be condescending. If he hadn’t been certain before, Ash’s silence was now proof he could use against him. And. He knows he’s supposed to feel insulted at this, or at the very least, a modicum of resentment towards Fenning’s impropriety. Instead, he’s frozen stiff with the knowledge of having been thoroughly read, with no immediate retort that he can give. Graciously, as a small mercy on Fenning’s part, he doesn’t needle him on it, instead fussing with the way the scarf drapes around his neck so that it doesn’t fit too tightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first brush of fingertips against his bare skin is accidental, a brief whisper of contact that leaves Ash shuddering, gasping as if he’d been burnt. Fenning, as a consequence, lays a hand heavy over the nape of his neck, and flattens his palm over the thin bandage he’d stuck over the bite mark he had left on him days prior. Ash jerks away immediately, fearful, only for Fenning to tighten his grip in a silent warning. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fenning—</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hush,” Fenning says instead, picking at a corner of the bandage and peeling it off entirely. Powerless to stop him, Ash can only stare up at him in trepidation, panic blooming inside of his chest and spreading through his limbs like lead. “Don’t look at me like that. Chin up, now. Let me have a look.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Placing his hands on either side of his shoulders, Fenning strokes his thumbs firmly along the sides of his neck, tracing up along his jaw into his hairline. He’s close, close enough that his breath whispers against his cheek, and Ash is abruptly reminded of how this whole business had started in the first place: him minding his business in the administration tower, when Fenning had, perhaps in an attempt to mess with him as a poor form of entertainment, leaned down over him while he’d been reaching for a scroll left upon the upper shelves and had sunk his teeth into the back of his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bite had startled him more than it had hurt, shock accumulating into anger and then into something else more vulnerable he’d been too afraid to examine closer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, Fenning digs the pads of his thumbs into the middle of the still healing bruise, Ash swallowing hard against the dull ache it elicits, throat clicking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’ll fade in a few days,” Fenning says at last, sounding almost regretful. “Pity.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes him a long moment to find his voice again, longer still to come up with something to say. His tongue trips over the words, nevertheless, one more weakness for Fenning to exploit should he ever care to. “—You’re the worst, Fenning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why, you speak as if you’ve only just known me for a day.” At long last, Fenning finally sees fit to release him, the air rushing back in between them when he steps back, Ash finding that he can breathe once again. “You’ll find that I can be far, far worse. Considering that the old mark is fading, would you like a new one as a replacement? A little something to remember me by?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I can manage to remember you just fine without it. But—” Ash finds himself saying before he can properly think it through, heartbeat hummingbird quick in his chest, shame suffusing his face with heat. “—it is possible that I can be convinced if you would do it somewhere less obvious than what you’ve already done.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not the best decision he’s made thus far, but it’s not like he’s been making any whenever it concerns Fenning. This, whatever it is he’d just said—had just proposed—is blood in the open waters between them, and when Fenning grins again, his smile is entirely full of teeth. This time, when Fenning catches a hold of Ash’s wrist, he doesn’t resist, and allows himself to be gathered close to him, Fenning’s hand resting low on the small of his back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good boy.”</span>
</p>
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